


Warrior

by JulianGreystoke



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Danger, Frenemies, General, Injury, ME3, Reapers, batarian, rival - Freeform, trap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2578589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulianGreystoke/pseuds/JulianGreystoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balak is the last Batarian General and he hates Commander Shepard.  But now he needs her help.  Can she trust her old enemy, or is he leading her and her team into a trap?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warrior

Warrior

Shepard felt the cool muzzle of a gun press against the back of her neck. Her assailant had also blocked her communication with C-sec. Whoever this was, they were good. Not that good, though. They were foolish holding the gun so close. Shepard tensed to pivot and swat the gun from the hand of her aggressor.

“Shepard,” the gun-wielder seemed to have wised up, taking a few steps back. She didn't need to turn to know that the weapon was still trained on her.

A keenly honed, military mind like Shepard's would not let her panic in such a situation. The voice was deep. Batarian, probably. Not enough flange in the word to be a turian. He didn't want her dead, she reasoned, not really. If he did he would have waited. Gotten her in an alley, not so close to dozens of refugees. Turians, no less, who would not hesitate to attack a threatening batarian. She thought she caught of a glimpse of him when she turned her head fractionally. “Balak?”

She was right. A lucky guess. Though Balak was on the top of the short-list of batarians who wanted her dead. His voice was dripping with contempt. “You should have killed me on that asteroid over Terra Nova.” he snarled. “I've been waiting for this. Everything that has happened to my people is your fault.”

Shepard was slightly surprised by his leap in reasoning. “All I did was stop you on Terra Nova,” she pointed out, keeping her voice level.

“Yes. After you stopped my plans, my government accelerated research of the Leviathan of Dis. Have you heard of it, commander?” his tone indicated that he might know about her supposedly top secret journey to uncover a fabled Reaper killer, also known as the Leviathan. She let him continue, giving her time to put the pieces back together in her mind. “The ancient organic dreadnought that my people recovered from Jartar twenty years ago. Sound familiar?” he asked.

“A Reaper,” she intoned, “your people were studying a Reaper corpse.” She knew first hand that the only safe Reaper was one that had been blasted into a thousand pieces. Even then the pieces could still indoctrinate. The fate of the batarian people had been sealed so quickly.

“Yes,” Balak's voice was tight, as though he were trying to keep emotion from entering the conversation. “We were looking for a way to reclaim our place as the true power of the galaxy. Hundreds of our best scientists were enlisted...”

“And then they became indoctrinated,” Shepard knew what indoctrination did to people. She'd seen it too many times. No one deserved that.

“When the Reapers reached Kar'shan, our own people betrayed us. Defense grids were deactivated. Ships fired on allied targets. We destroyed ourselves from within, because of you.”

There was the leap in logic, again. How could he blame her for this? She'd stopped him from obliterating one human colony. That was all. “I didn't destroy your people, Balak, the Reapers did that.”

This time Balak couldn't keep the emotion from his voice. “We were a proud race. A beautiful race. Have you seen what the Reapers have done to us?! I'm trapped on the Citadel. Our warships only know the locations of Reaper ships because I tapped the council transmissions. I am the highest ranking officer left in the Hegemony. I can't save my people,” his voice was so full of rage, “but I can end you.”

“Balak,” she said, trying to keep her own voice steady. He was about to make a mistake that all of his people would feel. There was no way he could kill her and walk away. His people would lose their remaining leader. She tried to swallow the dislike, maybe even loathing, she felt rising in her. “You sent that asteroid towards Terra Nova to help your people, but what does killing me accomplish?”

“Vengeance. The Bahak system-”

Shepard was getting sick of this whole situation now. None of this was her fault. “They would have died anyway when the Reapers showed up. You know that! I'm uniting the krogan and the turians. We're the best hope the galaxy has! If you care about your people-”

“Aaaah,” he snarled. He knew she was right. He wanted to kill someone, anyone, to alleviate the pain of his loss. She knew the feeling well. She'd helped her men through those feelings, and she'd fought through them herself. She steeled herself and turned around to face him. He'd lowered his weapon. He met her eyes for the briefest of moments, before turning on his heel. “Our ships are yours,” he said defeatedly.

She watched him go, shoulders drooping, his walk slow and deliberate, like it took everything he had. It took everything she had not to give him the finger. Now that the situation was over, a wave of annoyance and anger washed over her. Batarian ass hole. Why the hell was he in her life again? Like she didn't have enough issues trying to save the galaxy without everyone she'd ever inconvenienced holding guns to her head. Well, at least she'd figured out who was bugging the Council channels and why. She reported back to the C-sec officer on the case, and assumed the matter was over and done.

~~~~~~

She should have learned this lesson long ago: never assume.

“Commander, you have a new message at your terminal,” chirped Trainor, as soon as Shepard had stepped from the lift the next morning.

Shepard didn't think much of it as she strode to the panel and tapped a few buttons. “Crap.”

“Commander?”

“Nothing to worry about, Trainor. I'm going back to my quarters. I need a line to the Citadel directed there.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the young officer replied. Shepard liked Trainor. She knew when not to ask questions.

In her quarters again, Shepard took up an official looking pose at her desk, stiff backed and stern. She hit another button, “put me through, Trainor.” Moments later she was instructing the busy Citadel switchboard to her contact.

What the fuck do you want, Balak? “Balak?”

“Commander,” the batarian looked as pained as she felt.

“Your message was a little vague, Balak, what do you want?” no point standing on ceremony with a terrorist who had threatened her life only the day before.

Balak winced at her sharp tone. He looked ready to end the call, but seemed to summon his resolve and soldier on. “Cerberus. I interrupted a communication from them before the attack on the Citadel. The Citadel authorities caught it as well, but it was deemed unworthy of their time due to the attempted uprising...by the human-”

She cut him off before he could go on a rant about how much he hated humans. “Why are you and I talking, Balak?”

He bared his teeth, sharp and creepy as ever. “Cerberus has located one of our few remaining transport ships. They plan to attack it. Put even more people 'out of our misery.'”

Shepard leaned forward slightly, “and you were hoping that I would look into it? Need I remind you of our previous meeting? Hell, our previous two meetings?”

“I don't want you to look into it, commander. I want you to take me there. I'll deal with it.”

You think I am going to let your terrorist, four eyed, toothy face on my ship?! “Balak, I think that would be a supremely bad idea. My crew-”

“You think you were my first choice?” he snarled. “I don't have any other options. It has to be you. People are going to die, Shepard. You'd save them if they were human. If they were turian, or your precious krogan.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, leaning forward as though she could throttle him through the screen. “Come to docking bay D-14. I'll have someone meet you. If you try anything, Balak, I swear to god-”

“Thank you, commander.” he said, and hung up.

Shepard hit the intercom so hard her finger stung, “Vega, get to the docking port. We're going to have a visitor, and I don't want you to let him out of your sight. Understood?”

Her tone must have been especially deadly, because James didn't even bother asking whom he was to be escorting. “Right away,” he said.

“Shepard sat back in her chair with a frustrated sigh. This was just what she needed. Another face for her motley band, and an ugly one at that. As a rule, she didn't dislike the batarian people. To be honest, they seemed to be the closest to humans in their reactions and the conversations she had managed to have with them. Balak, he was a whole different story. In general, batarians hated humans, and this feeling was reciprocated. In Balak's case, he reciprocated to the extreme. He'd aimed an asteroid at a harmless human colony and a pistol at her head. He wasn't going to sit on any of the ship's comfy chairs, she thought with a bitter smile, rising and heading for the lift.

Needless to say the crew was already in an uproar over their new 'guest'. Granted, an uproar for the Normandy crew looked more like mild confusion to the uninitiated. Joker had his chair swiveled all the way around and was giving Shepard looks ranging between disbelief and disgust. James looked unsure, but willing. He had no idea who Balak was. The human crew stared unashamedly.

Balak did his best to stand tall under the stares, most curious, but some cold. He looked relieved to see Shepard marching towards him. She didn't greet him, instead she nodded to Vega, “Take him to the briefing room.”

She shot Joker an I'll explain later look, and followed slowly, motioning with her hands that her crew should get back to work. For the most part they did, though some still shot uneasy glances at their trusted commander. Probably colony kids, she thought, grateful that their loyalty outweighed their hate, for the moment.

“Alright, talk to me,” she said, striding into the briefing room behind Balak and James.

Balak held out his hand, a small device rested on his palm. Vega reacted before Shepard did. He had his sidearm drawn and aimed at the batarian in seconds, “easy, four-eyes,” he warned.

“This is only an imaging device,” Balak snarled irritably. He clicked a button with his thumb.

Shepard felt her muscles tighten. Had she allowed a known terrorist onto the Normandy, practically the flagship of the galaxy, to let him blow the whole thing up? Her fingers twitched to her own side-arm, but didn't draw it. An image, like a tiny galaxy map, appeared, hovering over the device in Balak's hand. “I knew you would not give me access to your own navigation systems, so I brought a map,” the batarian explained. He indicated a small marker on the image, “here's the last known location of the batarian transport I was telling you about. They were trying to make it to the Citadel.”

“What were they doing so far away?” Shepard asked warily.

Balak curled his lip slightly. “Humanitarian mission.”

Bullshit thought Shepard, but she kept that to herself. “You've lost communication with them?”

“I was using the Citadel's comm system to monitor their progress, but you were kind enough to cut off my access.” he gave Shepard a cold glare.

“And you think Cerberus?” she asked, leaning forward to study his map.

“Or worse,” he looked down, uneasy.

“Reapers?” Vega asked, holstering his weapon slowly. He was feeling sympathetic.

Shepard smelled a rat, but she wasn't sure why. Her instincts told her Balak was keeping some key information to himself. “And we should help you because?”

“I told you my fleets were yours, commander,” he said, leveling his gaze (all four eyes) on her. “Every one of my people we lose is one less soldier, one less pilot. We haven’t got millions any more. We might not even have thousands. The quarians are in better shape than us.”

Shepard watched his eyes, deep brown, with hardly any white. Of everything he'd said thus far, this was definitely true. The batarian people were in trouble, but still wanted to aid the larger cause. Balak, in his own, lying, sneaky way, wanted to save the galaxy. She groaned, rubbing her hand on the back of her neck. “This had better not be a trap.”

He smiled at her. She suspected it was supposed to be reassuring, but with his batarian features the expression just looked menacing. “You won't regret this, commander,” he said.

“Ugh,” she sighed in reply. “Vega, set him up with some quarters and see that they're guarded. I'll take that,” she held out her hand and Balak willingly gave her his map device. “EDI will be running a thorough scan of this.” she said. Balak didn't even blink, so she suspected the map was just that. Nothing more. Better safe than sorry.

She and her 'guest' went their separate ways. She headed for her own galaxy map. “Hades Gama,” she muttered. Why was it always Hades Gama? “Joker, fire up the engines and inform the Citadel that we're disembarking.” she called to the pilot. They had intercoms for that, but she liked to be loud enough for Joker to hear her in his cockpit. “And send EDI back here, I've got a job for her.”

Joker used the intercom. “Yes Ma'am...and, commander?”

“I'll explain as we go, Joker,” she said wearily. “I just want to get under way.”

“Right,” he replied, and she heard the distant, but beloved, sound of the Normandy's engines heating up. The bridge began to fill with chatter as her people went to work. She watched them fondly. She couldn't have asked for a better crew, even though she did miss that skeleton crew she'd had when she'd been “working for Cerberus”. A motley, but diverse and competent bunch. She thought briefly of Thane's death, but pushed it from her mind. Far more important business at hand.

Shepard gathered Joker (once he'd set a heading and left EDI in charge on the controls), Garrus and Liara in the briefing room. They'd all looked at her like she was crazy. Joker gave her a lecture on trusting terrorists who blew up colonies. He knew he was from a colony, and had family on one. She was patient with him, and let him rant at her. That was what it usually took with Joker. Garrus and Liara just thought she was insane. The turian suggested a trip to the medbay. Liara recommended returning to the Citadel for psychiatric evaluation. Surely the pressure of being such an important commander was getting to their captain.

They were mostly messing with her. They knew her well enough. They'd been with her the first time she'd faced Balak, and they'd been with her since, though Liara had been away for a while. There were no crewmen she would trust like those two. If she said 'jump into a fiery abyss', they'd make the leap without question. It wasn't blind trust, it was earned, complete loyalty. She smiled at her people and all three smiled back, with varying degrees of snark.

The ship bucked slightly. They had gone through the mass relay. “EDI, start scanning,” Shepard said through the intercom as her people went back to work. She stood for a long moment in the empty briefing room. What was she getting herself into?

Balak was on the bridge almost as quickly as she, after EDI had informed them of what she had found. Shepard was pleased to see that Vega was still following the batarian everywhere, like a giant, watchful, pit bull. She knew there was a reason she kept him around. “Report?” she asked, as EDI walked over to join them, data-pad in hand. The lights from the ship reflected off of EDI's streamlined, metallic figure. Balak raised an eyebrow at Shepard. She ignored him, listening to EDI's findings.

“We believe we have located the batarian ship,” she held out the pad for Shepard to check.

“The Erro'tnal” said Balak, quietly, blinking his lower set of eyes while keeping the others fixed on the picture on the data-pad. “It means 'warrior'” he clarified, when several people gave him questioning looks.

“The ship appears to be dead in space. Life support is active, though I detect no engine activity and attempts to communicate with the crew have failed.”

Balak tensed noticeably. Shepard watched him out of the corner of her eye. “That's an old Cerberus trick. Use a dead ship to lure us in, then pounce. This has trap written all over it.” She said.

EDI nodded, “It would seem so, commander.”

“So, what's the plan?” asked Garrus, shouldering his sniper rifle. He and Liara had already suited up.

“No plan,” Shepard said, handing the pad back to EDI, “It's a trap. We leave.”

“What?!” Balak exploded, raising his arms, seconds before Liara pinned them to his sides with biotics, while Garrus and Vega drew their weapons.

Shepard spun to face the batarian. Her expression was cold. “I'm sorry Balak, but I am not endangering my crew for this. Your people are dead already. It's over.”

“They could be prisoners,” Balak's tone was pleading. His posture changed to a more submissive one, and Liara freed his arms.

“Prisoners?” Joker's voice was cold as it reached them on the comm from the cockpit. He'd been listening in. “You mean, ike slaves? Like the human slaves your people take? I might hate Cerberus, but I say they got what was coming to them.”

“Women and children?” Balak asked, teeth bared, eyes (all of them) pleading.

Shepard stared him down, which was admittedly tough, as she didn't know which eyes to focus on. “You mean to tell me there are women and children on that ship? All the way out here?”

Balak curled his lip slightly, “They were being rescued from an illegal colony. The Council wasn't aware of it.”

Shepard's lips tightened. Count on the batarians to have secret colonies. I did sound like something they would do. Liara gave her a concerned look. “If there are children...” the asari prompted.

“Damn it, you had better not be lying!” Shepard growled at Balak. “EDI, keep us at a safe distance. Keep your eyes open for a trap. Tell Steve we'll need the shuttle”

“The shuttle?” Joker's voice joined the conversation again.

“I want to go in cautious. Humans use windows,” she smiled wanly. The Normandy's stealth systems were great for hiding from Geth and Reaper sensors, but not so much from Cerberus ships. Or batarian, she thought. If this was a trap to lure in her beloved Normandy, she wasn't going to make it easy. “The shuttle's going to draw less attention.”

“You get in trouble, you call me,” Joker said in a dangerously brotherly tone.

“I will,” she assured him. “Garrus, take Balak downstairs and find him a suit.”

“Arm him?” Garrus asked, mandibles tight against his jaw.

“No,” Shepard said.

~~~~~

At least Steve wouldn't ask questions, Shepard knew, as they stood together in the shuttle. James was a little disappointed not be going along, but she assured him that she, Liara and Garrus could more than handle whatever the batairian might throw at them.

Balak was quiet, almost demure as they buzzed past the derelict ship to see if any weapons activated. Shepard watched him with growing suspicion. There was still something he wasn't telling her. She chewed her lip, looking out the front view screen at the ship, floating like the empty carcass of a beetle after a spider has had its way with it. Every instinct in her was screaming TRAP! She knew Garrus, at least, felt the same way. He hadn't put his sniper rifle away during the entire ride.

“Take us in closer, try to find a way on board,” she spoke quietly to Steve, as though her voice would somehow carry through space and alert a nearby Cerberus ship.

“I think there's a docking port I can hack over there,” Steve pointed.

“I've got codes that should get us in,” said Balak, his tone also hushed. He stepped forward and Shepard watched his hands suspiciously as he entered the code into the transmitter. It seemed to work. Moments later a docking port moved out to meet the incoming shuttle, like a helping hand.

“Ready, kids?” she asked. She always tried to keep the mood light when they disembarked.

“Always,” said Garrus, winking at her.

“As ever, commander,” Liara intoned with her more formal speech.

Balak looked uneasy. They hadn't had any suits meant specifically for batarians. His arms were slightly longer than an average human's, and he had to use an old, salarian helmet. An odd mismatch of pieces that made it hard for Shepard not to chuckle every time she looked at him.

They entered the ship cautiously. There was still breathable air, so they removed their helmets, but the gravity had been deactivated, so they had to magnetize their boots. Shepard flicked the light on her weapon to illuminate their path. Everything seemed dead. A data-pad floated nearby, abandoned. “Take it easy, now,” Shepard hissed to her people. “Stay up here with me, Balak, I don't know my way around batarian ships.

Balak walked up beside Shepard, scanning the empty docking area with sadness in his eyes. “This way,” he indicated.

They walked the ship for several minutes. Nothing stirred. No bodies were seen. Shepard could feel the hair on the back of her neck prickling. She didn't fancy this at all. She knew Garrus and Liara were equally tense, but none where as visibly upset as Balak as every new room turned up more emptiness.

Suddenly there was a clattering sound. It echoed around the empty ship. Everyone aimed their light in a different direction, unsure where the sound had originated from. Shepard signaled with her hands that they should back out. Things were seconds away from going bad and she knew it. A lifetime of soldiering told her that.

And then things did indeed go bad. Weapons fire. Diving for cover. Retaliation. Uncertainty. Smoke. Someone yelled in pain, it sounded like Liara. Shepard couldn't get a clear view of their attackers. With her her magnetized boots it was lucky she got to cover at all. She had hauled herself into a small anti-room, like a pantry. Balak had come with her. Weaponless, he knew his best chance was to stick close to Shepard. More weapons fire, and a grunting sound she knew. “Reapers,” she gritted her teeth.

“I've got a visual!” Garrus called from where ever he had taken cover. “It's Reapers alright!” She heard him take a few more shots.

“Have you got eyes on Liara?” Shepard called.

“Negative.”

“I have,” Balak said, crouching behind Shepard. “She's down, over there.” He pointed.

Shepard fired a few more shots. “Grab her. Garrus, cover Balak!”

To his credit the batarian didn't hesitate. He rushed, as best he could, towards Liara's prone form. Shepard and Garrus did their best to cover him, though bits of debris everywhere made it very difficult to see their enemies. Balak managed to pull the fallen asari to better cover, but was pinned down there.

“Dammit,” Shepard took a few more shots and ejected her heat clip. “Garrus, I can't see!”

“My visor gives me a better line of sight on these guys, but there are a lot of them!”

“Get out Garrus. Retreat.” she ordered. Her turian friend was the closest to the exit. She was the farthest, with Balak and Liara in between. Her mind was calculating rapidly. She had an exit strategy planned, though it wasn't foolproof with so many of the enemy unseen.

“Shepard, look out!”

Shepard found herself being tackled flat. Her shield ate several shots, and one pierced her thigh. One of the enemy had managed to get close, using a floating table as cover. She caught a glimpse of a batarian-Reaper hybrid as she was shoved down and backwards. Thanks to the lack of gravity she actually bounced when she hit the floor. Balak had been the one to tackle her. No one else would have been close enough. He turned, and slammed a panel on the wall with his palm as the Reaper loomed in the doorway. There was the flash of another shot as the door to the room slid shut. Shepard's gun floated above her, spinning slowly, shedding light on the wall, then her face, then the floor.

She fumbled for her intercom with one hand, while keeping the other pressed against her thigh, where her blood slithered into the air in strange droplets and streams. “Garrus! Come in, Garrus!”

“He can't hear you,” said Balak, snatching her weapon from the air and aiming it at her. “We're in a slave room. No radio communication in or out.”

“I knew I shouldn't have trusted you,” Shepard growled, looking up the barrel of her own gun. “You're indoctrinated.”

Balak looked confused, then seemed to realize something. He reached up and snapped the light free of the gun, then let the rifle go, to drift away. He kept the light aimed at Shepard. “No. I'm not.”

“What the hell was this?” she demanded. Reaching into a pouch on her belt for her medigel. Her suit had already injected some automatically when she had taken the hit.

“This...” Balak hesitated, then moved towards her, pulling himself to his knees beside her. He put the flashlight in his mouth and pressed his palms against the wound to stay the bleeding. Shepard winced as she pulled out a roll of bandages and a large tube of medigel. “This...was a rescue mission,” he said.

“Just like you told us?” she asked coldly. He moved his hands and she spread some medigel on the hole in her leg.

“I may have kept some information from you. I needed you to help me,” he said, turning his head abruptly as someone...something, banged on the door. The knocks were uneven. Probably not Garrus.

“Maybe?” She was livid. “You endangered my team! Hell, my whole ship! You do not get to keep things from me. Talk. Now.” She would stab him with her omni-blade if she had to. He wasn't getting away with this. She thought briefly of her team, but she knew Garrus had sense. He would get Liara out, then come back with a bigger group. If they opened the door to a dead batarian, no one would bat an eye.

“This ship,” Balak's voice was pained, “it was full of women and children. Indoctrinated women and children.”

“What?!” she snapped.

“We were trying to save them. To get them back to their people,” he offered her his hands as she struggled with the bandage in zero gravity, letting the flashlight drift over them. Her anger was put aside for a moment. She knew the shot could have hit a major artery. No good bleeding to death while waiting for rescue.

“Balak, you understand what indoctrination does to people?” She asked, her tone quieter as he wound the bandage around her leg. “Indoctrination doomed your home world.”

He didn't look up at her. “It killed millions of batarians,” he nodded, finishing Shepard's leg. “Right now, more of my people are indoctrinated than not.” His voice was so sad. Softer then she'd ever heard it. He sounded lost. Like a general whose men had all died. Like she must have sounded when she lost her team on Akuze. “We have no choice. We have to try to bring the indoctrinated home. We have to find a way to cure them.”

“Balak,” she touched his arm, “You can't cure them.”

“You don't know that!” he turned on her, eyes flashing.

Outside the Reaper-hybrids were gathering. She could hear them scuffling and pounding on the door. “You can't save these people, Balak.” she said.

He moved awkwardly away from her. “No. Not any more. They weren't like this when I got the call. They were still batarian. They hadn't changed.”

Shepard watched the last batarian general curl away into the corner of the room opposite from her. That was what defeat looked like. Shepard tried flexing her leg. Stiffness was already overtaking her limb. Medigel could do that. Stiffen a limb, if too much was used. But if she moved her leg too much it would start bleeding again. She forced herself to stand and limp over to the door. The metal was very thick. She thought of the human slaves that might have been held in this cold, darkened pen. People like Joker's family. She looked over at her cell-mate. The picture of abject defeat. The batarians might have plagued the galaxy, destroyed human colonies, pirated and killed, but now they had been punished. Balak had been punished. Disproportionately to his crimes.

“I'm sorry, Balak,” she said, quietly.

“Ka'hairal” he said.

“What?”

“My name.”

“Ah,” she nodded, “I'm Lorelei.” She moved closer to him, thought it was challenging to limp with magnetized boots. She managed to crouch beside him, wincing. Blood floated past her. “Balak, is that mine?” she pointed.

He didn't move. She reached forward and pulled his shoulder. “Dammit. Why didn't you say something?”

“I doesn't matter.” he said.

Shepard forced him to turn. The shot had gone mostly into his side. Muscle. Probably didn't hit a kidney...if what she remembered about batarain physiology was correct, they were very much like humans. Still, he was bleeding. Quite a bit. Much of it was actually going into his ill fitting suit. “Come on Balak. This isn't going to kill you. You don't get to have a death wish. Every single person, be they turian, batarian or human, is going to die in this Reaper invasion. Your people fell, my people are falling. I left earth, my home planet, in ruins. You think that was easy for me?”

He chuckled darkly. “You're Commander Shepard. Where you go, people rally. You think anyone is going to rally to help me? After all my people have done? You think anyone mourned Kar'shan? Humans probably declared a holiday.”

She didn't say anything for a long moment. She took out a syringe of medigel and injected it near the wound. Her own leg was throbbing and she didn't dare check to see if it was bleeding again. He was right. No one mourned his home world's fall. People dusted off their hands and cried good riddance to annoying, entitled, rubbish. They hadn't seen the loss of the batarian people. She was witnessing it, right there, in the eyes of one of them. “Alright,” she said. “So people rally after me? Well, I can rally them to help the batarians.”

“How exactly are you planning to do that?” he asked, wincing as she moved him again to apply more medigel.

“Well, I united the turians and the krogan, plus I have the salarian STG under my wing, thanks to my good friend Captain Kirrahe. I saved the Citadel Council...again. If I can't get the batarian plight heard, who the hell can?”

He seemed to brighten slightly. “Can you get me in. Just to speak. To make the Council aware?”

“I'll badger those cowards into seeing you,” she said, feeling her old fire rising in her. The Council got under her skin like nothing else. That she had in common with the batarian commander. He grunted, “Sorry,” she said, realizing that she'd pulled the bandages she was applying too tight. Funny, she thought, that she of all people would be speaking for the batarians. The very people who had not wanted humans to have a voice on the Council. The galaxy is always changing.

The sounds outside the door changed slightly. “Garrus?” she wondered aloud.

“Help me,” Balak said, trying to rise, but having trouble thanks to the lack of gravity.

Together they managed to pull him upright and he moved towards the door. He limped, holding his side. Shepard wondered how much he'd bled into the suit. If his skin wasn't naturally a greenish color, she would have worried. She glanced down at her own leg. Red was staining the bandage. Great.

Balak pressed an ear to the door for a moment, then moved to work on the control panel he had hit to lock them in. “This can only be opened with batarian DNA,” he said. “Though I think they've damaged it from the other side. Might have to hot-wire.”

“I'm terrible at that,” Shepard admitted. “I guess I'm more of a meat-head soldier, when it comes down to it.

Balak chuckled, leaning against the wall for support, breathing a little labored, “get this panel off, then. Meat-head.”

Shepard and he worked together to pull the panel free and Balak went to work. He worked quickly, but she noted he grew somewhat clumsier as time went on. He too was saturating his bandage. Should she give him more medigel? What he needed was a medbay. Dammit, where the hell was Garrus? “So,” she decided to keep him talking. “Do you have any family that made it out of all this mess?” She knew she was treading dangerous territory, but she asked anyway.

Balak touched two wires together. Nothing happened. He made a growling sound that was more animal than civilized. He leaned back slightly, getting a wider angle on his work. “My wife was on this ship,” he said, solemnly.

“Oh, god, really?” Shepard asked.

“No,” he shot her a smile. “I had a wife once. I was young, she was young. It didn't work out. She's probably dead now, though.” His speech was so flat. Matter-of-fact. Just as she often was about the casualties she'd seen.

“Parents?” she asked, he was willing to talk about the tough subjects. Maybe she'd have to make him a spot on her crew.

“No idea. Likely dead.”

“Hey, mine too,” she nudged his shoulder, gently. “I never knew them. I have no idea if they died when I was a baby, or we got separated or what. I grew up on the mean streets of earth.”

“Sounds like a familiar story,” he said, twisting two fresh wires together. This might have actually accomplished something because his expression of concentration lessened. “I suppose we were bound to have something in common, two soldiers like us.”

Shepard wanted to scoff when he called himself a soldier. She'd been trained, no, honed into the talented warrior that she was. He was a terrorist. Not much was known about the batarian military, mostly because they didn't really have one. Their race had descended into spite and rage shortly after humans appeared on the scene in the galaxy. Then it was all hit-and-run attacks, slavers and bombings. No ships flying in formation. Clearly no training. She watched him work, keeping half her attention on his bandage. If it got any redder she'd have to hit him with another dose of medigel. Was he older than she was? Hard to tell. How much experience did he have?

“Get ready,” he said.

Shepard was jarred from her musings by his deep, throaty voice. She grabbed her rifle from where it hovered, and she handed him her pistol. Then she positioned herself on the other side of the doorway and nodded to her companion. He held his hand up to a small hole in the panel. A tiny needle shot out, jabbed his finger, and moved back inside. A red light flashed, then turned green. “There!” he growled triumphantly. The door snapped open and Shepard stepped to swing her rifle's nose around the door frame. She hit Garrus with it.

“Shepard!” the turian exclaimed, mandibles spread with joy.

Shepard looked around. Her people had cleared most of the floating debris and the bodies of the dead Reaper/batarians out of the way. Garrus stood with James, while EDI had been apparently working on the door. Shepard smiled kindly at the robot, knowing that she had tried where Tali would have succeeded. Still, she couldn't hold the failure against the synthetic. No one was perfect.

Balak followed Shepard into the welcoming beams of everyone's flashlights. Vega had a gun trained on him, but Shepard shook her head. “He had plenty of time to kill me in there.”

“You're shot,” Garrus pointed to her leg, concern on his sharp features.

“We both are,” she replied, indicating Balak's bandages. “let's get back to the Normandy for now.”

The group retreated, Garrus filling her in. Liara had taken a graze to her cheek and been knocked out, but was doing well. Garrus had managed to get her out, of course, and come back in force. They had cleared much of the ship, but not all, choosing instead to focus on freeing Shepard, in case she was having trouble with Balak.

They entered the shuttle and gravity. Balak, who was standing beside Shepard, collapsed against her. She fell too, her leg giving way. Garrus and Vega hand to pick them both up, though Garrus was far more gentle with Shepard than Vega was with Balak.

Balak had passed out, so they strapped him in as best they could and headed for the Normandy, which hovered nearby like a watchful mother hen. Shepard could practically see Joker's face, glaring at her.

In the medbay Chakwas looked after them. Laira was awake and sitting quietly on a bed, reading a datapad, no doubt to do with Shadow Broker business.

When Balak woke Shepard limped over to him. He blinked at her with all four eyes and gave her a wan smile. “I suppose I should threaten your life again, or something, just to get things back to normal.”

“I suppose so,” she smirked. “Though I think you'll find, it's my turn.”

“Commander,” EDI's voice joined them. “Our people are all back on board. What would you like done with The Warrior?”

Shepard hesitated. It was a derelict ship of the damned. The people on it were no longer alive. No longer who they used to be. She looked at Balak. There was such pain on his face, and she knew it was not from his wound. “Burn her,” he said, slowly. “I came to save those people, but they're already gone. Burn her.”

“Did you hear him, EDI?”

“Yes commander. Commencing fire.”

Shepard watched Balak's face. It grew still. She knew that look. Numbness. Just another loss in a sea of losses. Even if they defeated the Reapers today, the batarian people might never make a comeback. Their losses were too high. She put her hand on his shoulder. He let her. “I'll make sure you have your say to the council,” she said. “And if we win this thing, your people are welcome on earth.”

He cocked his head to the left, then extended a hand towards her. She took it and gave it a gentle shake. Both knew the gravity of this gesture. The batarain, finally welcoming the human to space. The human, greeting the batarian as a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> I always like the batarians as a race, and had hoped for one as a teammate eventually. How cool would that have been? Anyway, I wrote this because Balak's character intrigues me and who doesn't love frenemies?


End file.
